


Everybody is Confused, Nobody is Responsible

by Ambrosia_678



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (Or at least he's trying to be...), Angst, Dubious Morality, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth Identity Reveal, Good Parent Gabriel Agreste, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Humor, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Nathalie Sancoeur Does Not Get Paid Enough, Pining, Protective Sabine Cheng, Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain Ship It, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrosia_678/pseuds/Ambrosia_678
Summary: When Adrian accidentally finds out his father's alter ego, everyone has to make some difficult choices.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 70
Kudos: 223
Collections: August 2020 - Exchange





	1. Plagg Wants More Cheese

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyMayura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMayura/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to put up the first three chapters immediately, but my computer started glitching and I really didn’t want to type them all into my phone, so you’ll have to wait. Sorry.

“Cheeeeese,” Plagg moans, floating up to Adrian, who is heroically playing make-believe with his Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls. When that does not elicit an instantaneous response, he slaps the plastic figurines out of the lovesick boy’s hands, “I’m _dying_ here!”

Adrian rolls his eyes, “Just get some camembert from the cupboard.”

“I want something with a hard rind,” Plagg pouts, “I’m looking for the subtle taste of-“

“Yup,” Adrian jumps to his feet, waving his hands in front of him, “I’ll get you your cheese, no need to elaborate.”

Plagg smirks and takes his usual hiding position. Adrian is so sick of cheese talk that he’ll do practically anything to get Plagg to stop talking about it. Somehow the usually unobservant quami noticed, and has been using it to his advantage ever since.

Luck is not on Adrian’s side that day. Despite searching every cupboard and shelf of the kitchen, not to mention all three huge fridges, there is no cheese Plagg deems remotely acceptable.

Adrian sighs and rests his head on one of the fridge doors. Plagg wizzes around him, shoulting something about the decline of mankind. He gets a little too close to Adrian’s ear, and the thoroughly fed up teen swipes at him.

“OUCH!” Adrian pulls his hand to his chest, his eyes bugging when he sees the throbbing wound. A small red dot has appeared on either side of his knuckle, just above his ring. He gets queasy looking at it, so he turns his face to stare reproachfully at Plagg. “Did you just bite me?”

The quami visibly deflates. His ears droop, his whisker-things go limp, and he drops a few feet further down in the air, “I’m sorry kid. I got mad—you know how I get when I haven’t had enough to eat.”

“Yeah,” Adrian smiles, trying to hide his shakiness. “How about you go up to my room and eat some camembert? I’ll ask Nathalie to order you some fancy cheese. You can probably have it for tomorrow.”

Human and quami part ways. Adrian can’t find Nathalie in the dining room or the hall, and none of the bathrooms are occupied. Which means she’s in the atelier. With _Father._

He almost goes back to his room. He starts to compose what he’ll tell Plagg in his head. He starts to think of all the excuses he might use to buy time until Nathalie comes out. But halfway up the stairs he shakes his head. _No, that’s ridiculous. There’s_ nothing _to be afraid of._

He quietly opens the door to the atelier—just a crack—and peers around. Father is standing in front of his tablet. Nathalie is sitting at her desk, talking on the phone. Then his father’s eyes narrow and his eyebrows scrunch together. 

Not a good time. He’ll come back later. _Or…_

Neither of the adults has noticed him. If he’s quiet, maybe he can stay here a little longer. He can take a peek into his father’s world. Maybe he’ll even start to understand why he acts the way he does!

Excitement coursing through him and mind made up, Adrian waits for something to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I love when people leave me comments!


	2. Gabriel should really be more careful with his secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My computer is fixed, the chapters are up, and balance has been restored to the universe.
> 
> You're welcome.

Gabriel stands in front of his tablet, his brow furrowed in annoyance. It has _not_ been a good day for designing. Every time he thinks he’s getting close to something, it begins to look wrong and he has to scrap the whole thing!

The click-clacking of heels makes him look up from his latest disaster. Nathalie stands in front of him. Her eyebrows are raised, and her phone is hovering an inch away from her ear.

“Audrey Bougeoix would like to talk with you, sir.”

Gabriel has a mild anxiety attack.

His heart is beating way too fast. He might pass out. Why don’t his lungs work? Gabriel grips the edge of the screen and slowly lowers himself to the floor. The floor is nice. 

Eventually he calms down enough to recognise how _desperately_ the floor needs to be mopped. And that Nathalie is sitting crossed-legged across from him, squeezing his hands. He quickly pulls away.

“Feeling better?” Nathalie asks, as they both resume standing.

“You didn’t warn me I would talk to Audrey today,” Gabriel says, turning back to his work.

“It was unscheduled. Despite my many talents, I still can’t see the future. I told her to call again later, by the way.”

The butterfly miraculous twinges, signifying a negative emotion. Gabriel tenses. _Was that Nathalie? I’ve never felt her emotions before!_ But upon closer inspection he realises it’s coming from the Grand Palais Hotel.

Relief causes him to slump forwards. He wonders idly why he never got himself a chair.

“Sir, are you alright?” Nathalie’s eyes dart between his face and the miraculous hidden below his fashionable necktie.

“I’m fine. I just felt a… particularly strong negative emotion.” He won’t tell her he thought it was _hers_. She’d probably take that as an insult to her capabilities.

Gabriel turns away, placing his fingers on the buttons hidden in dear Emilie’s painting. And then Nathalie is beside him. Without making eye contact, she pins the peacock miraculous to her chest.

“What are you doing?” 

“Helping you,” she says calmly, like she’s not in the process of killing herself.

Mayura gives him an admittedly much needed advantage. Still, she can only help him so many times before—images of Nathalie beside his wife, Nathalie in a glass chamber, Adrien asking where she’s gone… _I only get one wish. ___

__“No.”_ _

__“But you just said it was a very strong—“_ _

__“No,” Gabriel repeats, placing his hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her away._ _

__He turns around once again and this time presses the buttons. Nathalie glares at him as he sinks into the floor, but he is too caught up in the negative emotion to be bothered. It _is_ very strong. _ _

__“Dark wings rise.”_ _

__And apparently it is coming from Audrey Bougeoix. He releases an akuma. Hope rises in his chest. _This time_ he will succeed. Adrien will finally be happy again._ _

__Adrien._ _

__Oh._ _

__He can’t akumatize Audrey, not with what happened last time. He can’t risk Adrien a second time._ _

__The akuma flies to an angry pharamacy worker instead._ _

____

•oOo•

Nathalie walks back to her desk. She unpins the miraculous, relaxing slightly as the thrum of broken magic fades, leaving only a dull ache. She can breathe again, which is nice. She takes a sip of coffee; that usually helps with the headache and general fatigue.

_Click._

Nathalie almost chokes. Did the door just— Did someone see—

She walks swiftly to the door. Opens it. Looks left and right for something that isn’t there anymore (if it ever was).

Maybe she’s hallucinating. Becoming a magical terrorist _and_ the caretaker of two children doesn’t exactly leave much time for sleeping. She walks back to her desk and types a note into her tablet: _sleep two hours_.

She is nothing if not an overachiever.


	3. Adrien is Reasonably Upset

Adrien can’t think about the things he saw in the atelier. He doesn’t have time, what with day’s akuma fight, fencing lesson, rushed dinner (Father does not make an appearance, and for once he is grateful) and evening photoshoot. But then it’s time for bed.

With the lights of the city casting his room in a greyish glow, and shadows creeping across the floor, he can no longer repress his fears. Fears of Father being the man behind the mask. The one that’s been terrorising Paris for months now. The guy who cackled manically and said he had nothing left to lose.

It can’t be. Gabriel Agreste isn’t _evil_. He even got akumatized once! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize himself! Of course, Mayura could have akumatized him to divert suspicions. And then Mayura would be...

Adrien groans. 

Mayura is probably _Nathalie._ That thought is even worse than his worries about Father.

Suddenly the room is too big and the silence too loud. He needs someone to talk to. Someone who will brush him off. Someone good at telling him not to worry too much. He glances at the quami currently snoring on his pillow. _Perfect._

“Plagg,” Adrien whispers.

Plagg’s snoring stops. Then he rolls over, wiggles his ears, and the snoring starts up again. How he can snore without a nose is a mystery for another day.

Adrien sighs. “I have cheese.”

Plagg’s eyes open with a snap, “Cheese? Where?”

“There’s no cheese. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Plagg stares at him.

His cheeks are suddenly very warm. Why did he think this was a good idea? He and Plagg don’t exactly _talk_. “You know what, never mind. Go back to sleep.”

“No way, kid. You’ve got me hooked.”

“It’s probably nothing, honestly.” Adrien will never talk again. He will tape his mouth shut and sit quietly in a corner. He has learned his lesson. 

A pair of green eyes stares, without blinking, at the flustered model.

Adrien won’t give in.

He won’t.

_No._

“I think Father is Hawkmoth.” _Darn it._

Plagg lets out a quiet squeak. His mouth hangs wide open and his eyes are bugging out of his head. That doesn’t exactly make Adrien feel better.

“Like I said, you can go back to sleep now.” He looks away as hot tears start to fall, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest.

Plagg doesn’t say anything. Adrien’s throat tightens. _Of course he went back to sleep. You_ told _him he could. The only reason he even puts up with you is camembert!_

Something soft and silky brushes across Adrien’s arm. He looks down. Plagg is hugging his wrist. Adrien almost smiles.

“Thanks,” he strokes Plagg’s ear. The ear twitches. It’s cute and bendy. Plagg purrs gently, and then his eyes snap open and he lunges away.

“O-Okay kid I think that’s enough.”

Adrien chuckles at the mortified expression on his face.

“Why do you even think Hawkmoth is your dad?”

It’s a difficult question to ask, and there would never be a good time to say it. Adrien still wishes Plagg had left the matter alone. He opens a mouth that is suddenly very dry, and explains the whole thing: the references to negative emotions, the painting of his mother with its secret buttons, the circle of floor that lowered his father down to _something_.

“I just don’t know, Plagg.” Adrien sighs, flopping back on his pillows. “I want to believe there’s another explanation, but I just can’t think of any. And I don’t have proof either way!”

“Then let’s get some.”

“What?” Adrien sits back up.

“You just said he pressed some buttons and went down into the floor. We should find out what’s down there. If it’s nothing suspicious, great. If it’s a secret lair, I’ll cataclysm his pants off.”

Adrien snorts.

“Okay?” Plagg asks.

“Okay.”


	4. Adrien Should Not become a Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien finds out his father is Hawkmoth. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

Adrien can’t remember the last time he was in the atelier at night. It feels wrong, like he’s breaking into a place he shouldn’t be. The painting of his mother looks strange in the near-darkness. Her eyes glitter in a way that seems a little too alive. He fumbles for the light switch, relaxing only slightly when the florescent bulbs turn on. 

Doubt creeps into his gut, making him hesitate. He’s not even sure he _wants_ to know, anymore. _What if he really is Hawkmoth._ and then a worse thought; _what if he_ isn’t, _and I’ve blamed him when he’s been innocent the whole time?_

“Hey, kid. What’s taking so long?” Plagg looks back at the boy still standing in the doorway, and his tone softens, “It’s okay, Adrien. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

Adrien gulps, and slowly shuffles towards the painting. He reaches his hands up to where the buttons should be and…

Discovers he’s a foot too short to reach them. Cursing his father’s freakish height, Adrien jumps, over and over, trying to reach the buttons. They remain too high. Plagg floats above his head, laughing so hard he’s practically doubled over. He is the absolute picture of a supportive friend.

“Why don’t you do it?” Adrien pushes his now sweaty bangs away from his eyes.

Plagg opens his mouth, says something unintelligible, and starts laughing again. This happens enough times that Adrien is sure steam is coming out of his own ears, before he finally chokes out a reply.

“Can’t press—all at once!” and then more giggles, “You—get chair!”

He looks around. _Chair? Father doesn’t use a… oh. _He pushes Nathalie’s chair up to the painting, trying to block out Plagg’s sniggering. He’s pretty sure his face has gone bright red.__

__This time, with a little fiddling around, he finds the small buttons hidden in the canvas. Taking a deep breath, he presses them.  
The floor behind him begins to lower. Before the rational part of his brain can kick in, Adrien jumps onto the platform. He descends into the pitch black.  
_ _

•oOo•

Gabriel rolls over in bed, trying to tune out the strange thumping noises coming from below. When the thumping continues, he moves to put the pillow over his head, and then thinks better of it. What if someone is in trouble? What if they’re trying to steal his designs?

With the added adrenaline of that thought, he gracefully falls out of bed. It is not a soft landing. The floor is also cold. But he is _very_ tired. He can probably just fall asleep here…

“Master? Why are you lying on the floor?” Nooroo’s high-pitched voice is tinged with concern. Odd, but perhaps the quami is finally warming up to him. 

Gabriel sits up as another thump sounds from below. _Right._ He should check on that.

He opens the door and marches into the hallway, Nooroo trailing behind him. When he gets to the staircase, he notices that he is still wearing his unicorn pyjamas. He shrugs, and walks down the stairs.

•oOo•

Butterflies. _White_ butterflies. That is the first thing Adrien notices when he steps off the platform. They look exactly like the ones Ladybug de-evilizes after every battle. There’s no doubt left. 

_Father is Hawkmoth._

Adrien feels strangely numb to the fact.

“What is that?” Plagg asks. He points towards something in the distance. It vaguely resembles a casket.

_It probably is a casket. Father probably killed someone, too._

He walks along the thin metal walkway. His eyes never waver, fixed on the casket. Bushes are planted around it, with cocoons hanging from their leaves. There is a button on the side, which Adrien presses.

The casket opens.

Adrien stumbles backwards. Everything hits him at once. Tears come to his eyes and a moan escapes his throat.

 _Mom. Mom is in there, dead. Father_ **killed** _her._

He falls to his knees as another moan echoes through the chamber. But it doesn’t come from him. Shakily, Adrien turns his head. Father stands behind him, arm outstretched and eyes wide. The man looks like he’s crying, but Adrien feels no sympathy, only anger.

“You _are_ Hawkmoth,” he sneers.


	5. At Least I Didn't Kill Your Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has some explaining to do...

“You _are_ Hawkmoth.”

 _This is a dream,_ Gabriel decides. He will wake up any second now and everything will go back to normal.

Adrien walks up to him. His face is twisted, barely recognisable as his sweet, innocent, son’s. “You killed mom, but that wasn’t enough for you, so you decided to torture all of PARIS!”

On the last word, Adrien’s fist connects with Gabriel’s stomach. Gabriel doubles over, gasping.

_That feels… very real. Merde._

“No,” Gabriel says, standing straight once again with a little difficulty.

“You really expect me to believe you aren’t Hawkmoth? I’m not _oblivious,_ Father. Who would he be besides the worst man in Paris?”

He decides to ignore that insult, especially as he might deserve it. “Not that. I am Hawkmoth but—“

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t turn you in right now.”

He swallows the lump in his throat, “Because I’m doing this for you and Emilie—“

Adrien makes a noise of protest.

“Whom I did _not_ kill, by the way.”

At first, Adrien looks riotous and indignant. His arms are crossed and his expression looks _far too much_ like those pesky heroes’. But then his arms drop and his eyes get suddenly watery. He looks so young and helpless, and Gabriel wonders the last time he saw the boy cry.

“Why?” Adrien whispers.

“The miraculous grant a wish—it’s the only way to bring Emilie back. I just want us to be a happy family again.”

For a second Adrien looks like he understands. Then he shakes his head, “What about the price?”

“…Price?” _What is Adrien talking about?_

Adrien freezes, fear flashing across his face. Gabriel’s stomach twists.

Then he is angry again, “Those akumas hurt people, Father. That’s what I mean.”

“But the ladybug cure…”

“Yeah, sure, that fixes _physical_ damage. But seeing your friends turn into monsters? That doesn’t—It’s awful. It’s because of _you._ ”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Are you going to stop?”

_Am I?_

Gabriel stares into Adrien’s green eyes. The boy—his son—looks furious and hurt and _tired._ He doesn’t know how to fix it. Emilie would have. Emilie always knew the right thing to do…

_Emilie lay in bed, propped up by pillows and pale as the sheets on which she lay. Gabriel knelt beside her, holding onto her frail hand and trying not to cry. She coughed, and he winced._

_“I need you to promise me something,” Emilie said, once the coughing fit had ended._

_“Anything.”_

_“I’m going to die.”_

_The blood rushed from his head, making him dizzy and nauseous, “No.”_

_“Yes, I am.” Emilie’s eyes showed no fear, only a burning intensity. She placed her free hand on top of his. “But that’s okay. I know how you can bring me back.”_

_Gabriel stared at her, “You do?”_

_“The Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous. When they are combined, you can wish for me to come back. Use the butterfly miraculous to get them. Okay?”_

_Gabriel nodded._

_“You promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

Gabriel grapples for something to say. "Son I..." 

Adrien’s patience seems to have run out. He shakes his head and pushes past Gabriel. 

Gabriel can’t seem to move. 

The echo of footsteps grows quieter.

_Do something!_

Gabriel turns, “Wait Adrien don’t—“

The glass elevator rises into the ceiling. Adrien is gone.

•oOo•

Adrien steps out of the elevator, emerging in the atelier.

“Adrien?” Pagg asks, floating out of the boy’s shirt. 

Adrien ignores him. The quami is suddenly, inexplicably, nervous.

“Kid, look. I’m sorry I hid, I just thought—“

“I get it.” Adrien doesn’t even glance up at him.

“So… What are you going to do now?”

“Plagg…” Adrien finally meets his gaze. His eyes are red and watery.

“Yes?” Plagg moves to nuzzle his chin.

“Claws out.”


	6. Nathalie will Never Get to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie receives a series of panicked texts from her boss.

_And… send._

Nathalie closes her laptop with a sigh. She rubs her eyes, not even bothering to take off her glasses. Her head feels foggy and she is having trouble focusing her vision.

_I should really go to bed now…_

A chime from her phone dismisses that thought. There is only one person who would text her at this hour. 

Sure enough, the text comes from Gabriel. **Urgent. Come here now.**

****

****

She rolls her eyes. _That_ could mean anything from “I’m bleeding out on the floor,” to “I have the sudden urge to make pancakes and we’re out of eggs.”

 **Care to elaborate?** She types.

 **Can’t explain. Need help.** His response is immediate, which is worrying to say the least.

**Ok. Coming.**

It is then that Nathalie realises she does not actually want to move. 

“Come on,” she tells herself, glaring at a wall she needs to repaint. “He’s your _boss_. You’re getting payed a lot of money to do what he says.” _Also you love him._ She doesn’t say that part out loud, but it’s enough to get her out of her chair.

Twenty minutes and two cups of instant coffee later, Nathalie is standing in front of the Agreste mansion. She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves, and unlocks the front door.

She is not expecting Gabriel to be standing _right behind_ said door. She jumps back, almost dropping her purse.

Gabriel looks equally startled. He shouts and leaps away, pinwheeling his arms to keep from falling over.

“Sorry sir—” she reaches to help steady him, “Are you alright?”

Nathalie does not think she’s ever seen him looking quite so unkempt before. His hair is limp, void of any jell. There are bags under his eyes and despite being approximately seven feet tall, he looks incredibly tiny. Most perplexing of all is his outfit—unicorn patterned pyjamas. She has to make a conscious effort not to stare.

“He knows…” Gabriel mumbles. He runs trembling fingers through his already messy hair.

Her mind automatically jumps to the worst possible meaning for his words, but she quickly squashes the idea. There’s just _no way_. “Who knows what?”

“Adrien found the basement.”

Her jaw _literally_ drops. “He _WHAT?_ ”

Gabriel looks away.

"What _exactly_ does he know?” Nathalie asks. Her heart is pounding so loudly she can barely make out his response.

“He knows that I’m Hawkmoth and he knows my wish for Emilie. I didn’t reveal your identity but…”

_But you’re a recluse and I’m basically the only woman you’ve talked to face-to-face this past year._

“I’m guessing he didn’t take it very well?”

“He punched me.” Gabriel admits, absentmindedly rubbing a spot on his abdomen. “He was angry about the price of the wish—he said it hurt him when I turned his friends into… monsters.”

“ _Right…_ ” Nathalie’s voice might be trembling a bit, “And where is he now?”

Gabriel shifts awkwardly, “He left…”

_Breathe. Breathe. Everything will work out, we are not going to jail._ She composes herself, wrestling all her feelings into a little box to process _later_. Right now she has to keep a clear head.

“Have you tried tracking his phone?”

He shakes his head. She pulls out her tablet and types in the correct information. It takes _forever_ to process.

“Well?” Gabriel asks.

“Nothing,” Nathalie sighs, “I’m sorry sir.”

She _is_ sorry the phone is a dead end. But she’s also angry. Gabriel should have known better! He should have told Adrien the truth when she asked him to! Now he is who knows where, probably terrified, and quite possibly talking to the police.

“I know!” Gabriel claps his hands together, startling her out of her reverie, “I’ll akumatize you, give you the power to track him down or something—”

“ _That’s_ your solution?” The tiny part of her that is still rational screams at her to stop _but she might be in jail tomorrow so who cares._ “That is a terrible idea. _Sir_. Your son is angry because you are a terrorist who akumatized his friends. The last thing he needs is you akumatizing _me too._ Not to mention that the heroes are sure to show up and try to stop me, and that blows _any chance_ of keeping this a secret.”

Gabriel’s eyes bug out of his head.

Nathalie's face is suddenly very hot. But she is not going to take that back. She lifts her chin and stares at him coldly.

And then he starts to cry.

“What am I supposed to do?” He whispers, tears tracing their way down his face.

 _He’s crying. Gabriel Agreste is crying._ She half expects the world to flip upside-down and pigs to fly in the window. _That_ would make more sense. 

After a second she notices he’s waiting for her answer. And this time, maybe he’ll actually _listen_.

She walks up to him and places her hand on his shoulder, “Wait,” she says, in what she hopes is a reassuring tone, “Whatever happens... it'll be up to him. But _please—_ no more akumas. Not for now, at least.”

He hickups, rubs his eyes, and pulls her into a hug. She’s glad he can’t see her face.


	7. Ladybug is Trying her Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir meets his partner at the Eiffel Tower.

The metal rungs of the Eiffel Tower feel cold even through his magic suit. He swings his legs, humming the Pizza Pizza jingle and trying not to cry. Even the dazzling sunrise can’t cheer him up. 

_Father is Hawkmoth. Father is Hawkmoth. Mom is dead. I can bring her back._

_What about the price?_

“Hello, kitty.” Ladybug says, landing beside him. 

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Chat mumbles. _I hoped you wouldn’t. It would have been easier that way. Now I have to make a choice._

Ladybug laughs, sitting down on his left. “It _is_ pretty early. What did you want to talk about?”

Chat turns to look at the love of his life. Gorgeous blue eyes, dark pigtailed hair, red, spotted arms that are always there to catch him when he falls. _Can I really do this to her?_

Her eyes widen when as she takes in his troubled expression. “What’s wrong?”

Her earrings are so close. His fingers twitch. If he’s fast enough maybe—

“Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you,” Ladybug inches closer towards him. Places her hand on his shoulder. Gives him a smile that makes his insides turn to jello. 

He only has to reach out...

_No!_

“I have to go.” Chat pushes her away. _Extend the pole, push off, don’t look back._

He looks back, and immediately regrets it. Ladybug stares at him, hurt etched across her features. He wishes he could explain everything to her. He _can’t_. 

He doesn’t even know what he would say. 

Chat Noir leaps across the roofs of Paris, alone. He runs and jumps and propels until his arms are screaming in protest. When he can’t take it any longer, he drops into an empty alleyway and lets his transformation fall. 

In a sort of daze, he stumbles down the sidewalk. 

One foot in front of the other, and then the next, and the next. He can’t let himself stop or _they_ might find him and he can’t handle that right now. 

_I was so close..._

The smell of fresh-baked pastries wafts through the air, and his stomach grumbles. Looking up, he realizes he’s arrived at the DuPain-Chang bakery. 

_I_ could _use a croissant._

He pushes open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a long time to get this chapter the way I liked it, and then it turned out to be rather short. And full of angst. 
> 
> Oops.


	8. Give Adrien His Croissant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine and Adrien chat.

The bell above the door rings, and Sabine looks up. Is it 7:30 already? No, the clock says it’s only six. Tom must have forgotten to lock the door again. 

She sighs and walks out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, “I’m sorry, we aren’t open yet—“ 

The Agreste boy, the one that Marinette likes, is standing just inside the doorway. He looks utterly forlorn, like a half-cooked noodle tossed on the floor.

“Oh, uh... sorry to bother you,” He mumbles, “I’ll just, um, I’ll come back later then...”

Her motherly instincts kick into gear. 

“No need,” Sabine places a hand on has back, guiding him in, “You’re a friend of Marinette. That gets you VIP status.”

“Thank you, Mme. DuPain-Chang.” He smiles, standing up a little straighter. “Do you have any croissants?”

“They’re in the oven, so you’ll have to wait a few minutes.”

She _discreetly_ leads him into the dining room, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Marinette is going to freak out when she comes down for breakfast.

“Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” She opens the fridge and pours him a glass of milk. 

“There’s nothing—why would you think—“ Adrien looks around, eyes wide with panic. 

Sabine mentally smacks herself. Asking a celebrity for gossip about his life? Seriously? She’ll need to do a lot better than that if she’s ever going to be his mother in law. 

Tom walks into the room, carrying a tray of black smouldering pastries. “Sabine, darling, the croissants have been murdered.”

“Sorry Tom. But look—we have company.” She gestures at Adrien, who is staring sadly at the tray. 

“Oh.” Tom nods, a smile spreading across his face. He grabs the boy and wraps him in a tight hug, “Welcome to the family.”

Adrien grunts. With quite a bit of difficulty, he extracts himself from his grip. For a second his hair is as messy as Chat Noir’s, but he quickly finger-combs it back into place. 

The poor boy looks extremely confused. “Am I being adopted?”

Tom frowns, “Wait, are you and Marinette not da—“

He is (thankfully) interrupted by a commotion from the other side of the room. A pyjama-clad Marinette half hops, half falls down the stairs. 

“Marinette, hi!” Adrien rushes towards her, a wide smile on his face. He holds out his hand to help her up. 

“Adrien?” She looks up, eyes widening. 

Sabine mentally prepares herself for her daughter’a awkward stuttering. But it never comes. 

Instead she smiles and takes his hand, and says in perfectly clear French, “Did I die during that fall? Because you look like an angel.”

Adrien’s eyes widen, and she’s pretty sure he’s blushing a bit. (Her inner teenager is screaming.) “Oh, um... thanks? I’m a model?”

The two of them stare at each other until Tom interrupts them with calls for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Marinette‘s newfound confidence?


	9. He Watches His Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Nathalie make a plan. (It’s too bad those never work out.)

“It’s been eight hours,” Gabriel shifts from foot to foot. His eyes keep darting between his watch, Nathalie’s face, and the front doors _that have remained closed._

At some point he had forced himself to get presentable, despite how little fashion matters to him right now. He shudders, remembering how, when he’d pinned the miraculous to his suit, the weight felt like it was crushing him. But he needs to be prepared for a fight...

The miraculous is still on his chest. 

“He’s at school!” Nathalie says suddenly. 

He turns to face her. “What? How do you know?”

Nathalie smiles, holding out her tablet. “Lila Rossi texted you. Apparently ‘Adrien came to school today with that stupid Marinette.’”

“Ah.” Gabriel nods. “Thank you for informing me.”

Then the ridiculousness of the situation hits him. Adrien, after finding out his father is a terrorist and his mother is comatose, has decided to... _go to school._

He starts to laugh. Tears trace their way down his cheeks as he clutches his sides and lowers himself to the floor. 

Nathalie stares at him, her eyebrows raised and her mouth open slightly. “...Sir?”

That makes him laugh even harder. 

“...Alright then.” And just like that, she goes back to the neutral assistant. 

As he watches her, he feels an unexplainable sense of loss. On the bright side, that feeling is enough to sober him from his fit of giggling. He wipes the wetness from his cheeks and stands back up. 

“You have a plan, I assume?” _Please have a plan._

“Yes sir.” She nods. “When school lets out I’ll go to the DuPain-Chaing bakery, since that’s probably where he’s staying. I’ll call you when he gets there, so hopefully you two can come to some sort of agreement.”

“Perfect.” Gabriel checks his watch. 

Two hours left.

•oOo•

Adrien had been hesitant when Marinette offered to walk with him to school. Not because he doesn’t like her, she’s a really good friend. Just because that would make ditching a little difficult.

Then she told him a pun and his face got hot. Walking to school with her suddenly wasn’t such a bad idea. 

Now he’s grateful to be sitting in the classroom again. The fluorescent lighting, general shenanigans, and Mlle. Bustier’s calming voice make the outside world all but disappear.  
Best of all, not a single akuma!

There is a light, happy feeling in his chest when the final bell rings. 

He walks over to Marientte, “Can I come back to your place?”

Her cheeks go pink and she nods, “Of course. It’s always a pleasure when you come by.”

Alya makes a strange face. 

As a matter of fact, people make various strange faces as he walks home with Marinette. He doesn’t mind. He and Marinette talk about the fashion industry, school, and that one time Principal Damocles forgot to turn off the school intercom for almost an hour. 

Everything is going great. Until he spots a familiar black Mercedes outside the bakery.

•oOo•

Tom and Sabine DuPain-Chang are yelling. Nathalie is questioning her life choices.

She holds the tablet to her chest with a little more force than necessary. _Stay calm, this is not the worst thing that’s happened to you._

The bell above the door jingles. A nervous Adrien and a confused Marinette step in. 

_Thank god._

Nathalie waves at the boy. “Adrien, we need to talk. Your father—“

“I’m sorry Nathalie, but I’m not interested.” Adrien brushes past her and into the back of the store, the pigtailed girl trailing behind him. 

Tom gives her a pointed look. “See? He’s _not interested_. Now get out of my bakery or I’m calling the cops.”


	10. Don't Leave Gabriel Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously. Don't.

Gabriel Agreste, famous fashion mogul and multimillionaire, is completely calm right now. Checking his phone every five seconds is just a practical thing to do. Pacing in circles and running fingers through his hair does not indicate any stress. His eyes dart back down to his phone.

 _Still nothing. Why is Nathalie taking so long?_ He bounces on on his toes. _Nothing is wrong. Nothing is—Oh! Maybe she has bad reception._

__

__

He walks into the atelier, eyes glued to the tiny screen. His thumb hovers over the call button. 

Thump.

A jolt of pain shoots up his spine and he possibly curses a couple times. Apparently tying his shoe laces wasn’t a priority this morning. At least nobody is here right now to see him trip over his own feet. Well, almost nobody.

Emilie’s portrait stares at him, serene as ever. He feels slightly sheepish, acting like a buffoon in her presence.

Then he frowns. Something is off. Something about her painting is different. It can’t be the angle, he’s looked at it from every angle, sometimes for hours at a time. It’s not the lighting, either. The paintwork certainly isn’t altered. He goes to inspect it closer, an unexplainable dread growing in his gut.

The ominous footsteps (granted, they are his footsteps) don’t lighten the mood.

Scrutinizing it close up yields the same results. Nothing is physically different. So why is he not happy looking at it? Where is that warm feeling he always gets? Has he stopped lo—

“No. No. No.” He shakes his head, backing away. His throat is tightening. He’s wheezing. The world around him starts to blur. _I love her I love her I love her I love—_

“Master, remember deep breaths!”

Nooroo’s voice is a knife stabbing into his skull. There are vibrations coming from the phone. Waves of emotion slide through him, mostly his, partially from the brooch. He’s going to vomit. He wants to rip the stupid jewel from his chest. He wants to stay lying on the floor—he doesn’t remember falling—and scream at the world for being so unfair. 

Instead he fills his lungs with air. He stands on noodles that were once legs and steps towards the painting he can no longer look at. 

_Think calm thoughts._

He can fix this. The painting isn’t Emilie. He still loves Emilie. He just has to look at Emilie in her chamber and remember what he’s fighting for. Everything will be _fine._

Still, his eyes are scrunched shut as his fingers find the buttons on the portrait. Something hits the floor beside him. His phone. That’s not important right now. The floor lowers and darkness hits the back of his eyelids and finally…

It’s safe to open his eyes. 

●oOo●

There’s a suspicious thumping noise coming from downstairs. Adrien doesn’t want to think about that. His phone is vibrating incessantly from in his pocket. He doesn’t want to think about that either. He flops backwards, landing on Marinette’s unmade bed with a slight bounce. 

The girl in question stands in the doorway. She glances at him and then away again, like she can’t bear to look at him. It’s not much of a surprise. Family issues and rebelliousness don’t exactly fit his model persona. He’s honestly a little surprised she hasn’t kicked him out by now.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien blurts out. Then he stares at Marinette because _she said it at the same time he did._

“Why are you sorry?” Marinette’s eyes sparkle with concern, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Her blue tinted hair shines and he can only imagine how spectacular it would look worn down.

He wants to kiss her.

He wants to pretend he didn’t just think that.

Marinette is staring at him worriedly and he’s suddenly afraid she can read minds. And then she’s walking up to him. Her hands cup his face. Her hands are soft. He gulps.

“Adrien, you don’t ever have to apologize around me.” Her smile lights up the world.

Is it possible to die of happiness?


	11. Everyone Makes Mistakes Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel visits his wife's chamber and recognizes an uncomfortable truth.

Gabriel steps off the lift. _Finally._ He grits his teeth and tries to pretend he’s not nervous. Nothing has changed. He loves Emilie, and that’s that. Now all he has to do is prove it. His footsteps echo out into the air, making him feel so incredibly tiny. White butterflies rise from where they’d been resting. 

“Master?” Nooroo says, “What are you doing.”

He pauses mid-stride. What he’s doing is none of Nooroo’s business. He doesn’t have to tell the quami anything! 

“I have to see her— _Emilie_ ,” the word is like ash on his tongue. It’s a word he’s not worthy to say.

“…You’re giving her up?”

His whole body goes rigid. Ice prickles across his skin and his voice warbles, “No I—Why—? _No!”_

All hesitation is gone. There’s no reason to draw this out. He’s walking so quickly the lights flicker on behind him, not in front. Nooroo’s apologies fall on deaf ears, Gabriel’s whole attention fixed on the point ahead of him.

Emilie’s coffin comes into focus. Her hair is spread out, golden waves tucked behind delicate ears. Her arms are folded in front of her, wedding band missing from her finger (his fault). Head resting on the white plush surface. She’s miling softly, looking just as she had a year ago. Like a sleeping angel.

And Gabriel feels _cold_.

_“No."_

“Master?”

“…no.” But he looks up at Nooroo anyway, eyes begging for answers even when his mouth is too proud to ask. If the miniature god is good for anything, _surely_ he’ll know what to do.

“It’s okay to move on.” 

Then again, he clearly hates everything Gabriel does. He wouldn’t put it past the quami to take advantage of a moment of weakness. He turns to face Emilie. _Perfect_ Emilie.

“Don’t worry.” He makes sure to keep his posture straight as he addresses her, “I’m not giving up. Some things may have changed, but once I make my wish…” and then the sheer impossibility of it all hits him. 

He’s been trying for a _year._

He’s been failing for a _year._

Gabriel can no longer stand. He stumbles forwards and leans against the coffin. His cheeks are wet and he can’t breathe quite right and the stupid quami is back to talking. He hiccups and bangs a fist weakly against the glass.

“I can’t! I _can’t._ I’m sorry…”

His hiccups slowly fade. The chamber is quiet. Peaceful. A white butterfly lands on his shoulder. Gabriel’s mouth twitches. Anther balances delicately on his cuff sleeve. He holds his breath, waiting for them to take flight. They don’t. They’re oddly comforting.

Careful not to startle the delicate creatures, Gabriel turns to look at Nooroo. “I think…” He takes a deep breath. “I think I’m finished being Hawk Moth.”

Nooroo smiles.

A wave of anger slams through him, and he falls to the ground. More waves come, each one more powerful than the last. He reaches his hand towards his necktie. It falls to the floor beside him, exposing his miraculous. _Take it off._ And so he reaches—

"Aaah!"

His hand jerks back. The miraculous is burning hot. 

There is only one other option.

“Dark wings rise!”

Gabriel relaxes against the cold floor. The anger is still there, at the edges of his consciousness, but it’s easy to filter out. He can wait like this until it passes. And yet… It is the strongest negative emotion he’s _ever felt_. 

Should he give this one more shot? _No._ Of course not. But common sense has never stopped him before. Hawk Moth gets to his feet. He holds out his hand and wills a butterfly to him. He corrupts it and watches it fly away.

 _One last shot_.

●oOo●

Nathalie stands outside the DuPain-Chang bakery. She smooths down her hair and tries to forget how she’d been unceremoniously thrown out of the store. The bakers glare at her through the window. Well, there’s nothing they can do now. The sidewalk is free for anybody to stand on.

She calls Adrien’s cell, and is sadly unsurprised when it goes to voicemail. _Worth a shot._ Now all she can do is call Gabriel and tell him she’s _failed_. Failed to save him from a life behind bars. No big deal.

Her finger hovers over the call button.

 _Press it_.

She doesn’t press it. 

Maybe if she becomes Mayura she can sneak through the window. She can get to Adrien and then… What? Kidnap him? How will that work in the long run? She’s not going to bring him home to a life under lock and key.

She has to call Gabriel. They’ll sort this out together. She closes her eyes and presses the button. Holds her breath. One ring, two, three, four… What’s taking so long?

“Hello, you have reached the voicemail of Gabriel Agreste—” 

Nathalie practically hits the _end call_ button. She starts shaking as she tries again and again. Always voicemail. Minutes pass and she has to fear the worst. But a quick google search confirms nobody has attacked the mansion so _why isn’t he picking up_?

One thing.

She asked him for _one thing_.

He knows how important this is!

And he’s not even watching his phone.

“Hello, I’m Hawk Moth. Your employer has—Wait _Nathalie?!_ ” 

Gabriel’s voice slams through her head. She can feel the power resonating from the akuma. She can feel how he tries to take it back.

“No!” She growls. “I’m not giving this up!”

And so she doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: When I planned this fic, I had actually made Gabriel going straight from panicking about the painting to trying to prove his worth to Emilie by akumatizing someone else. And the someone else was supposed to be a random Parisian. Plans change >:)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette are _finally_ having a good time... But then the plot comes along and ruins it.

Marinette sits on her swivel chair. Adrien balances precariously beside her, teetering on a stack of pillows. He smiles as she pulls out her sketchbook. 

“This one is the original design for your derby hat.” Marinette says, opening the book and tilting it towards him. “I’m not sure if you remember that, but—“

“I definitely remember it.” Adrien grins. “I was sneezing for hours after that competition.”

“Oh right...” Marinette’s ears become a rather prominent pink. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I actually got to skip a photoshoot so... _totally_ worth it.” 

“Oh!” Marinette giggles and flips to the next page. “Okay then. So this next one is heavily inspired by a really cool cloud I saw...”

She’s clearly trying to distract him. Adrien can’t bring himself to mind. And if his attention is more focused on her mischievous blue eyes than the drawings in her sketchbook, well... That can’t really be helped. 

Marinette grins at him, and then her eyes dart to a place just over his head. She goes incredibly still. “A-Adrien—“

Trying not to get too concerned, he follows her gaze towards the open window. At first he doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. Maybe he just can’t accept it. And then everything clicks into place. His heart drops. 

_So that’s what Father was doing. I don’t know why I’m surprised._

A clearly akumatized Nathalie crouches on the windowsill. Her hair has partially fallen out of its bun, and her suit has become fully red. Like an old porcelain doll, her skin is greyish-white and cracked. Black eyes with red irises focus on him. 

“Hello Adrien.” She sounds almost sad.

“I’m not going home with you.” He shouts, jumping to his feet. He probably doesn’t have much say in the matter, it’s not like he can transform into Chat Noir, but _still_. 

“Hmm...” Nathalie crosses her arms. A glowing red cell phone is held loosely in her left hand. “No. You _are_ coming with me.”

He flinches. 

Marinette is slowly backing away. He hopes she gets to safety. Luckily—well, sort of—Nathalie only seems interested in him. 

Nathalie takes three quick steps forward and places her right hand on his shoulder. She smiles down at him. It’s not one of her _I’m proud of you _smiles, or one of the triumphant smiles she tries to hide when Father gives him a little more freedom. It’s a Mayura smile.__

__The door clicks shut. Marinette is gone, she’s _safe._ That fact, coupled with the hatred he feels as he stares into Nathalie’s eyes, gives him the courage to be an idiot. _ _

__He takes a step back, forcefully removing her hand. “I’m not coming with you,” he says again. “I’ll talk to Father when I’m ready. You’re only making matters worse.”_ _

__She has the audacity to look confused. “Your Father? You think I—?”_ _

__Whatever she was going to say next is cut short by a spotted yo-yo flying through the window. It wraps around her torso._ _

__What happens next is a blur._ _

__Nathalie flies backwards. She does a flip and pulls on the string._ _

__Ladybug falls into the room._ _

__Nathalie rushes at her. Ladybug punches her in the face._ _

__She falls to the ground and rolls to the side, and her hand darts out to grab Ladybug’s leg._ _

__Ladybug falls to the floor._ _

__A flurry of arms and legs._ _

__There’s a scream._ _

__Nathalie jumps to her feet._ _

__Ladybug is still. Her limp body faces away from him. She’s not moving. She should have recovered by now. Unless..._ _

__It’s Adrien’s turn to scream._ _

__Nathalie’s head jerks up._ _

__“YOU KILLED HER!” He shrieks._ _

__She frowns at him. “No. She’s not dead.” And then she hops out the window._ _

__Adrien rushes towards his fallen partner. He turns her on her back, feeling sick. But then her eyes open and he breathes a sigh of relief. He places his head on her chest, just to assure himself of her heartbeat._ _

__“You’re not dead,” he whispers._ _

__Her gentle fingers run through his hair, making tufts of it stand on end. “I would never die on you, Chat.”_ _

___WHAT?_ _ _


	13. Cœur D’or

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel tried to find Nathalie. Adrien and Ladybug discuss things. Chaos ensues.

Hawkmoth races across the rooftops of Paris, eyes scanning the ground below. Usually he can sense his akumas. Not this time. Then again, a lot of things about this akuma are unusual. The guilt gnawing at his chest, for instance, is both new and unpleasant. 

_Focus_. He has to find Nathalie. He can fix this. Except he doesn’t even know what he’s looking for. A cackling maniac in an over the top outfit? A horde of screaming civilians racing away from a disaster zone? An explosion? 

As it turns out, he doesn’t have to look at all. He trips on the corner of a chimney (too busy worrying to pay attention) and a cold hand grips his collar, pulling him to his feet. 

“N-Nathalie!” He gasps, rubbing his neck. Glancing at her is a mistake. It’s not like he had been expecting her too look the same while akumatized. It’s the opposite, actually. She looks so close to normal that her expression of loathing hits him a little too hard. 

“Cœur D’or, now.” Nathalie—the _akuma,_ it’s not really her, it can’t be her—corrects, glancing at her phone. “And you’re going to pay for what you did to Adrien.”

Hawk Moth freezes. Her red eyes meet his. An arm swings forward. The phone clicks on. A beam of light shoots from the screen. Straight for him. 

_DUCK!_

•oOo•

Ladybug winces, sitting up slowly. She pushes her off him. Casually, as though she hadn’t just made his brain explode, she says, “We should follow her.”

Adrien stares at her. _She can’t know. That’s impossible. No way._ He presses his palms to the back of his eyelids. _It must just be a dream. This whole situation is so crazy—_

“Adrien?” Her worried voice snaps him to attention. “Are you okay?”

It takes him a second to answer. It takes him a second to lie. “I’m fine.” _Deep breath._ ”But what did you just call me?”

Her face pales. She glaces at the far wall, wringing her hands in a very un-Ladybug way. “Oh. I did? I must have been in shock or something. I didn’t mean it.” 

Adrien shakes his head. “I wish I could believe you.”

She sighs. “Yes. I know who you are. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s more than okay. Now that he’s gotten over the initial shock, all the amazing things they can do, out of costume, are starting to slip into his head. Maybe they’ll go to the movies! That was so fun with Marinette. “How did you figure it out?”

Her expression hardens. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”

“Wha—Why not? It’s not like it’s a secret anymore!”

Ladybug gets to her feet. She stares at the floor. “We should be following the akuma. This is a discussion for later.”

“No! It’s a discussion for now!” Adrien isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He _is_ sure he doesn’t care. There’s no reason Ladybug _can’t_ tell him now. Which means she doesn’t _want_ to tell him. And that hurts. 

“I’m going to do my duty. Follow me if you want.” Ladybug swings her yo-yo towards the window. Her knees buckle.

Adrien rushes towards her and grabs her by the shoulders. Her downward momentum isn’t stopped though, and so the both end up kneeling on the floor. Adrien’s knees are smarting, but he’s much more worried about Ladybug. 

Her eyes shift in and out of focus and her mouth moves without making a sound.

“Ladybug? Are you okay?” _Please_ don’t be something serious. Nathalie wouldn’t do anything permanent. Probably. 

“I’m...” Ladybug rubs her head, squinting at him. “My brain feels foggy.”

 _Don’t panic._ “Maybe you have a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four.”

“Good.” He realizes that he’s still be clinging to her, and quickly lets go. His face is hot. There’s no mask to hide behind. Ladybug probably thinks he’s a dork. 

She probably did already. 

“You need to transform.” She says, determination making her stand straight. “Hopefully once we find the akuma—“

“She’ll tell us what she did to you. Right.” 

He tries not to be self-conscious, transforming in front of Ladybug. Every part of him, plus Plagg, is saying that it’s wrong. The way she stares at him, blinking a little less than strictly normal, doesn’t help. Then they stand there awkwardly, staring at each other. 

Ladybug jumps out the window, this time without incident. He follows. They’re silent as they jump across the rooftops. He’s not in the mood for banter. 

She must have misinterpreted it, though. “Your nanny will be fine. This is just another akuma. Try to remember that.”

It takes longer than it should for Chat to figure out what she means. _Nanny._ That’s a funny way of putting it. “Yeah. Just another akuma. Um, thanks.”

She smiles at him. Then her eyes widen and she trips again. This time, when he rushes to catch her she looks odd. Extra shiny, even on the parts that aren’t her suit. 

“Why are you staring at me? Keep your thoughts on the target.” She crosses her arms. Then her eyes widen. “Chat look!” 

“What?” He whips his head around. His bell jingles while his jaw drops. 

Nathalie is waving around a beam of light. Hawkmoth is leaping up and down, shouting things at the her. A purple electric mask keeps covering her face. It keeps fizzling our. 

“Well... that’s surprising” He says. Really surprising, but Ladybug doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know it’s _Mayura_ fighting Hawkmoth. 

“Not bad for a scarf thief.” Ladybug murmurs. 

“Scarf theif?”

Ladybug jumps. “I uh,” her ears go pink. “I made you a scarf. It was a present for your birthday. And then she stole it. The next time I saw you you said it was from your father.”

Chat adds ‘actually getting me birthday presents’ to the growing list of things his father has not done. 

He has to marvel at how kind Ladybug is, whoever she is. And then he wonders what kind of relationship they have if she would knit him a scarf. Thinking about it makes him feel warm and happy. 

Nathalie shouts a battle cry. 

“We should help with that.” 

“Yeah.”

They land on the edge of the roof. Nathalie barely glances at them, but Hawkmoth waves. 

“Hey, heroes! Want to hurry up with this one?”

“Nah,” Chat swings his baton around. It barely misses Hawkmoth’s face as it extends. “We’re here to take _your_ miraculous.“

The beam of light flashes at him. Chat rolls out of the way. He knocks into Ladybug. They tumble to the ground. Hawkmoth’s carton villain laughs assault his ears, making him grit his teeth. 

Ladybug looks absolutely terrified. “It’s happening...”

“What?” 

And then he sees it. 

Ladybug’s feet. 

Made of _gold._

“Ow! Nathalie, I’m sure we can work this out.” Hawkmoth shouts. He lands inches away from Ladybug’s legs, but doesn’t glance down. 

“We can’t.” She approaches him. A new spiderweb of cracks trace the left side of her jaw. “And my name is Cœur D’or.”

Hawkmoth’s eyes dart around. He backs away from her. Then he sees Ladybug. He gasps. 

Nathalie—Cœur D’or follows his gaze, “Looks like someone hasn’t been telling the truth.” She clicks her tongue. Then she smiles and leaps at Hawkmoth. 

Chat scoops up his lady and jumps below the nearest building. She’s shaking, staring down at her legs. They’re golden past her thigh now. 

“She said you weren’t telling the truth.” Chat says, placing her next to the wall. “Maybe you should—?”

“Tell you who I am? Yeah. I get it. But I _can’t._ ”

“Why not?” His eyes are stinging. “You’re turning into a freaking statue and you just have to tell me the truth and it’ll stop. But you won’t. Do you seriously trust me so little?” Tears are running down his cheeks now. 

“It’s not that. I do trust you, I just—“

“We’re supposed to be partners!”

The gold has reached her stomach now. She won’t say who she is. And now she’s going to die. 

“Say anything. Anything that you can trust me with.”

“Okay. Kim used the monkey miraculous. Luka was the snake after you. Master Fu sings Katy Perry while trying to brew potions.”

The gold has barely slowed down. 

“I’m scared.”

He hugs her. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” She’s shaking, but he tries to ignore it. Then he has an idea. He pulls away. “Do your miraculous ladybug fix.”

Ladybug stares at him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not sure if it works twice for the same akuma.”

“You won’t be able to do it later anyway.” He tries to say it gently, but she winces. 

“Okay.” Ladybug bites her lip. She slowly lifts her arm, which is gold to the elbow. “Lucky ch—“

Her mouth freezes mid-word. Blue eyes stare at him in horror. He gives her a shaky smile and whispers that it will all be okay. Lies. 

She’s fully golden now. Even her earings. Chat screams. He slowly slides to the ground and stares at her feet. 

How are they— _He,_ it’s only him now, going to fix this?

Someone behind him clears their throat. Chat turns, and sees Hawk Moth straightening his suit jacket. He considers cataclysming him.

“That’s bad isn’t it?” Hawkmoth says awkwardly, gesturing towards Ladybug. He seems genuinely worried.

For a second Chat thinks he might be human. _No._ He shakes his head. Knowing him, he’s only sorry because he can’t rely on her to fix this mess. 

“What do you think?” Chat sneers. Silently apologizing to Ladybug for leaving, he leaps away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a light, happy chapter. I took away the ‘no archive warnings apply’ tag, for obvious reasons. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to tag major character death if it’s not rated, (and the death is temporary) but if I do have to please let me know.


	14. Nooroo is Ignored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel contemplates his mistake.

Gabriel sighs. He leans against the damp wall of the catacombs, drumming his fingers against his knee and contemplating diving into the Siene. On the one hand, his hair is an absolute mess and dirt is caked across his skin. On the other hand, the Siene is cold and probably full of electric eels, or something.

“Master?” Nooroo slips out of his pendant. “I’m getting hungry…”

“What do you expect me to do about it? Go steal some cheese, or something.” He dismisses the quami with a wave of his hand. 

The quami does not leave. Instead, he shakes his head and stares with oversized buggy eyes. “I can transform you again, if you hurry. You can fight her.”

Gabriel opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He looks away and, when he still isn’t left alone, sighs again. “What’s the point? Ladybug is gone. None of Nathalie’s damage can be reversed. What am I supposed to do—save her and then let her know she killed a kid and Emilie’s gone forever?”

“You can try.”

“No.” 

Before he can hear another protest, Gabriel jumps into the water. It is very, very cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, and then the short chapter. I've been having writer's block and figured it was a good idea to put up something short to get back into the habit.


	15. A Surprise Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien gets a visit.

Fu paces around his sparse living room, muttering to himself. He glances towards his bedroom. The door is still closed. It’s been nearly a week now...

A green quami phases through the door, wringing his paws. 

“Bad news?” Fu asks.

“Not so much bad...” Wayzz sighs. “He just isn’t moving. He’s barely eating anything. Definitely isn’t showering.” He scrunches up where his nose would be and shudders. 

Fu nods. “Yes. That is very troubling. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please.” Wayzz watches him totter around the room. “If only there was a wise man to help guide him through these times...”

Fu pauses. Is Wayzz saying what he thinks he is? 

“So...” Wayzz floats up to him. 

“It’s time to plagiarize Yoda!” Fu pulls out his phone. “Okay... inspiring Yoda quotes...”

“Or you could just talk to him. You’ve lost people before, people you love. Just think about that and speak from your heart.”

Fu decides to write that down. It might not be from Yoda, but it certainly sounds good. 

The only sound in the room is Fu’s typing. Sun streams across the hardwood floor, reflecting off Wayzz’s shell. Fu starts to hum. 

A woman falls from the ceiling. 

Fu screams.

•oOo•

Adrien hears a crash. He sighs and rolls over, pulling the blanket over his head. There’s a shriek.

“You should see what that is.” Plagg’s voice is accompanied by loud chewing. 

Adrien doesn’t respond. 

“Someone could be in danger...” 

“Fu probably just broke another teapot. Leave me alone.”

Plagg is silent. 

At first, Adrien is relieved. But the longer the silence stretches, the more he realizes that it isn’t right. Plagg _always_ talks back. Maybe something really is wrong. He should get up. 

He should get up. 

_Get up._

Adrien sits, pulling the blanket off his head. Plagg isn’t on the windowsill. He’s not at the foot of the bed, the side table, or floating through the air.

_This is bad._

He walks across the floor as quietly as he can. If there’s an attacker, he doesn’t want to give them any more advantage. (What’s the point? He can’t fight back without Plagg.)

The door slams open. Fu barrels through, eyes wide. 

“Adrien you have to get up it’s an emer— Oh. Hello Adrien.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll let her explain. Come on.”

Adrien didn’t think his room was dark, but as he steps through the doorway he has to squint in the sudden brightness. Once his eyes do adjust, he wishes they hadn’t. 

Bunnix sits in the center of the floor. Her legs are crossed and her face is greyish. But the gold creeping up her legs is what sends him running back to bed. 

“Cat Noir!” Bunnix shouts. “We need you here!”

Adrien presses his back against the door. _Bunnix got hit. Bunnix couldn’t stop her. Bunnix is going to die. Alix is going to die._

“Kid. Kid? Adrien. Breathe.” Plagg pats his cheek. 

It takes a few seconds, but Adrien finally manages to nod. “I’m breathing.”

“Good. Now open the door.”

“No.”

Plagg stares at him. “...Why not?”

_Because there’s nothing I can do to help anyone._

Adrien opens the door. 

“Okay. What do you need to talk to me about?”

Bunnix nods. Her face is drawn. “Listen carefully, Mini Adrien. You need to use the rabbit miraculous to go back in time and get Ladybug.”

“What?” Adrien can’t do that. He hasn’t even showered this week!  
Bunnix and Fu are looking at him strangely, though, so he tries to come up with a reasonable alternative. “Why don’t you get Alix?”

“Mini Me is already a statue.”

“Oh.”

“Good luck.” 

Bunnix mutters her detransformation phrase. She immediately turns to gold. A pocket watch falls to the floor, and Fluff flies into the air. 

Adrien stares at the statue for a few seconds. He walks over and picks up the pocket watch. He shivers when his hand brushes against the still warm gold. 

“Plagg, claws out. Fluff, Plagg, combine.”

Adrien doesn’t even look down to admire his new costume. He just raises his umbrella and prepares to open a portal. 

“Wait! Adrien!” Fu grabs his arm. “Once you make your first portal, you have five minutes before you detransform. Every portal you make after that takes a minute from your time left.”

Adrien nods and steps into the burrow. 

Thousands of circles show flashing images. There’s a dinosaur, a pirate, something underwater. There’s a tiny Nino blowing out six candles on a cake. 

He wanders around, trying to find Ladybug. There’s Marinette, tripping and dropping a whole carton of eggs on the floor. He smiles. Hopefully she’s somewhere safe right now. 

Then he sees it. 

Ladybug sits at the Eiffel Tower, and past-him jumps away. That was only a week ago, when he’d just found out about Hawkmoth. 

Adrien steps through. 

“M’lady,” he says softly. 

Ladybug turns around.


End file.
